A Game of thrones: A new era SYOC
by DragonStone13
Summary: A new era of war has reached the seven kingdoms and New houses have risen above the old to fight for the iron throne. SYOC OPEN
1. Chapter 1

Hello there, so I was looking round, when I realised there is literally no syoc's for a game of thrones, and those there are have either been forgotten about, or the author decided to stop writing them. So I thought, why don't I give it a go?

So the story is based roughly about 250 years after the events in the book, and the war of 5 kings is little more than a good tale in a history book. Since then there been many a war, and new houses have risen in place of the old, to fight for the iron throne.

What I want you guys to do is send in your own houses and eventually characters to be in those houses and star in this tale. So I'm looking for 3-5 houses to fight for the throne, including the kings house. If I get enough, or even more then I will pick the best, but may still use the other houses at a later date. So I would really love to do this, and if I get enough houses then I will put up the character sheet, so you can start making them.

So here's the sheet, it's also on my profile:

Name of house:

House keep: (winterfell, pyke ect)

House words:

House banner:

House history:

What is the House known for?:

House founder: (bran the builder)

Reason for fighting in war?:

What religion do they follow?:

Banner men houses: (5-8)

That should be all thank you. Just Pm me or put it in a review.


	2. Houses and character sheet

Hello again! So it's been almost a week since I asked you all for your houses, and can I just say that I was amazed with the level of response. I got a lot more than I anticipated and they were all brilliant in some way or another. After I couldn't decide which houses to choose, I decided to mark them on 3 category's, How imaginative the house was? How in depth it was? And how good of a story it would make?

Though they were all great I can only have a few, and don't worry, if your house isn't chosen it still may be used as a secondary house and enter the war, so still send in your characters, or make new characters not in your house or whatever.

So here are the houses in and little bit about them, rember. Your characters can be banner men for them.

**House Renwick: **

Keep:

Words: We Blaze Our Own Paths

Banner: A red fox in the middle with two tails facing opposite sides, imposed on a divide of black and white.

History: the Renwick family line is ancient. In the past they served as advisors toward House Martell and lived in Sunspear. Their wealth, wanderlust and thirst for knowledge had lead many of the Renwicks to travel the world and interact with the people, one tradition they don't mind following. After the War of the Five Kings, after they refused lordship over a keep, they were given land on the easternmost tip of Dorne on what would become a prime trading spot. They gradually built up a city, which became renown for its education and great library. As the years went on they became one of the Great Houses, as despite their grumblings, they are good at what they do.

what is the House known for?: Their intelligence, cunning, and irreverent attitude toward authority.

Bannermen: the Rooks, the Dabners, the Greenmonts, the Everells, the Parretts, the Sarwins, and the Wyndams.

**House Blackreyne:**

Keep: Arnor, built 240 years agon on the westernmost shore of Great Wyk

Words: Iron and Blood

Sigil: A Black Stallion with black dragon wings on a silver field.

House Blackreyne was founded by the son of Aegor Bittersteel Rivers and Calla Blackreyne. He would later marry the daughter of Robb Reyne and together they created their own house and lived in Braavos. After working for a merceney group that helped win the war of 5 kings, the blackryenes were given lordship over the Iron Islands. They began their rule by purging the Isles of the ironborn. Every man was executed and the women and children were secretly sold to Volantis. To populate the Isles, Caedus offered refuge to the wildlings and giants. Eager to escape the influence of the Nights Watch and the main landers, the free folk accepted. Over the next two and a half centuries. House Blackreyne turned the desolate archipelago into a Wealthy, thriving, self-sustainable kingdom.

Bannermen: House Thenn, (the Sun of Pyke), House Hornfoot (the elk of Harlaw), House Nightrun (the black wolf of Blacktyde), House Caverns, (the white tiger of Orkmont), House Bonehelm, (the bison of Old Wyk), House Redbeard (the shark of Saltcliffe), and House Riverice (The cobra of Lonely light).

**House Bennett**

Keep: Casterly Rock

Words: Victory in Strength

House banner: A golden lion pierced with a black spear on a red field

History: In the period after the death of Tywin Lannister, House Bennett seized power in the Westerlands, no longer content with being mere vassals of the Lannisters. After decades of strife, they emerged as the new Lords of Casterly Rock and Wardens of the West.

Banner men: House Clegane, House Payne, House Lefford, House Marbrand, House Swyft, House Lorch

**House Ashton **

House keep: The Eyrie, Kingslanding, royal family of the Capitol.

House words: Cold as Ice and Sharp as Steel.

House banner: A black arrow through a crow against a white background.

House history: House Ashton are actually descendants of an escaped wilding woman and a bravossi man. They started from bravos their founder having worked his way up in the iron bank of bravos to top position and earning the family's wealth. The founder created his own sigil and their words coming from his families skill at battle and his wife's past. Later the descendants of Lord Ashton relocated to Westeros and were given the Eyrie after stopping an attack from the Arryn's on the current royal family were they began their own plot to overthrow the iron throne. When war broke out through the kingdoms against the current family on the throne the Ashton's took advantage of their past connections with the iron bank to support and fight alongside the rebels providing warriors and money, gaining the loyalty of the houses. The Ashton's have been reigning for 9 generations of kings.

House Rooker, House Jenner, House Rhee, House Herron, House Morne

**House Vos**

House Keep: Rosehold

Words: Clever and Cunning. Always.

Banner: A crimson flag with an auburn fox jumping over three black roses

History: House Vos is a younger house, descendants of Tyrells. They first rose from a b*** son of a Tyrell Lord. The son, Derryn, took for himself a new name, and infamously assassinated a lordling and his family for his keep. The house has grown in popularity and power since, gaining land and fame through cleverly planned marriages and investments.

Bannerman:

-Westermans: a small house, yet militarily strong. They use guerrilla tactics

-Raev: close cousins to the Vos, the Raev hold elegance and wealth as a virtue. They fund the Vos in their war efforts

-Stently: one of the larger houses, Stently soldiers are swift and agile, adopting their fighting style from the Free Cities

-Foeda: a poorer house, these farmers supply food and livestock to the war efforts

-Kettu: a house with many children, the Kettu are famous for their share of knights. They are also extremely devoted to the Seven, especially the Crone

**House Devvon **

Keep: Dragon stone

Words: Loyal until the end

Banner: A Red Bull on a field of blue

History: House Devvon were a well-respected house in the free cites until they spoke out of turn about the wrongness of keeping slaves and were later banished with their armies and all who follow them. Arriving during King Roberts's rebellion, they quickly joined house Baratheon, and as a result of their loyalty, were granted a small keep and were made banner men of house Baratheon. Later, proving once again their loyalty by helping Stannis retain the throne. They were rewarded with Dragon stone, whilst Stannis took Storms end and kings landing.

Bannerman: House Seaburry, House longshaw, House Merrywyne, House Rowena, House Ironbled, House Beroden.

_So there are all 6 houses sorry again to everyone who didn't make it. Still feel free to make a character: _

Name:

Age:

Gender:

House:

House they fight for:

Social standing (lord, lady, ):

Personality:

Appearance:

Armour:

Weapons:

Family:

Friends:

Strengths (3):

Weaknesses (2):

Level of education:

Religion:

How they act towards people of a lesser standing?: (e.g small-folk)

How they act towards people of a higher or same standing?:

Possible individual storyline:

possible overall storyline:

View toward sex:

Open to romance:

That should be all thanks.


	3. Prologue: part 1

**So here is the first part of the Prologue. please review, its always helpful and good to here. also let me know if you prefer having multiple narratives in one chapter or just having one. Any way, sorry its so long... **

Prologue: Part 1

**Rowan**

**House Devvon**

The sun shone brightly on the sea making it glisten a perfect reflection of BULLS HEAD and SWIFT WIND moving slowly in perfect symmetry. With them being so close it was easy to spot their differences. The first was larger and more bulky, with a ram shaped as a bulls head at the front and a wide deck with 5 cannons on both the starboard and port side, and another 4 on its lower deck. It was built like a small war galley. The outer of the ship was sturdily built, made to take heavy hits without crumbling.

The second, SWIFT WIND, was longer and thinner made to out run or catch ships. Its deck carried 4 cannons and 2 large blisters on either side and its outer was lighter, allowing for more speed. Its front was wood carved in the shape of an eagle.

"Not long before you will be joining us upon this voyage on your own ship" Robert Devvon said, standing tall at the wheel of his ship. His long brown hair blowing in the wind and his grey eyes looking as dull as always. He wore his shiny steel armour that had yet to see a real battle.

Rowan smiled an embarrassed smile.

"Of course that's if he ever learns to sail it" Roberts's first mate, Red Russ said from rowans side. Russ was a big man, bald with two tree trunks for and arms and a boulder for a chest.

"And of course then he'd have to find a crew stupid or crazy enough to man it" Brandon shouted from BULLS HEAD.

Brandon was the opposite to his brother Robert, built stocky and wide with strong arms and ugly face. Were as Robert was lean, thin and very attractive. The only thing the same was there dark brown hair, which Robert had long and flowing and Brandon had sort and shaved.

"No but seriously, no longer then a day, until your eighteen and a man grown," Robert said handing the wheel to Red Russ. "And until father gives you a ship."

Rowan fidgeted with the hilt of one of his swords "Have you seen it?" He said trying hard not to let his excitement show.

"No!," he laughed his cheerful laugh "I'm not sure anyone has beside father and the people who made her, you know him as well as I, he's been very secretive"

"I bet she's a beauty, stronger then BULLS HEAD, and quicker than SWIFT WIND" Rowan said in quiet fantasy, leaning on the side of the boat.

Robert just laughed "It's more likely to be able to fly then as strong BULLS HEAD, that thing is a freak of nature, as for your remark about SWIFT WIND, she's a goddess, I reckon nothing in the whole of the east is as fast as her."

"Beside Brandon is right, how are you ever going to find a crew?"

Rowan turned sharply to face his brother, "What? Father doesn't give us a crew? I thought you and Brandon were in jape?" He sunk back to the side of the ship. It wasn't that Rowan was hated on un loved by the people of dragon stone, it was that he had acquired a reparation of being un predictable and un trust worthy.

"Well you had I coming really, lad," Red Russ said "I mean after all that business about the bear, the bakers wife and her daughter"

"That was simply miss understanding!" He pleaded in explanation.

"Well and there was that time were you got lost at sea for 5 days trying to find a something for that lovely girl, Jean, how is she by the way?"

"Well enough, though she still doesn't truly appreciate that necklace" Robert laughed and then turning more serious he joined his brother on the side of the ship and said "Loyal men. That's who you find to crew your ship and have you back in battle. Brandon will tell you that you need to find strong men, fighters. Father will say that experience is key, but nothing beats loyalty, rember that. Evan if it takes you months or years, Carrie no court but one you would die for, and one that would do the same for you"

It had taken them just over an hour to reach the island of dragon stone. It was a large island with many small fishing villages in the south belonging to house Seaburry, the smallest and poorest of house Devvons bannerman. Further east was the main port and centre to all trading in dragon stone. By contrast the east of dragon stone was owed by the richest house in all of dragon stone, House Longshaw.

Brandon had sailed east to House Longshaw were as Robert and Rowan had sailed more southern to the fishing village of Targo. There were roughly one and a half thousand people living in Targo. It was a damp and crowded place with most of the houses made of strong wood and those richer made of old mossy stone. The village was centred around its beach and the Dothraki sea. Taking up one quarter of the village was a large market with at least 2 dozen fish stalls. Too its left was a single inn, named the "the water dragon". It was a quaint little thing with no more than 5 rooms. Owned by a plump women with gentle face and kind smile named Brenda.

Rowan had stayed there many times when he was younger. He used to visit Targo more than any other place in Dragon stone. That was largely because of the people who lived there. They fascinated him, the way they had so little money and yet so much happiness.

Targo was in the shadow of "Oceans Edge", the seat of House Seaburry. It was modest keep with high walls that surrounded its small interior. On the stone walls stood a dozen archers and 2 large ballista. Inside there was a barracks of 400 men and tanning area, a small castle, a single blacksmiths and a ship building marine.

The castle is self was about a quarter the size of dragon stone, though about double in height. It had one large tower forming from a wide court hall in its center and a small guest house joining on to that.

In times of old the tower would be house Seabury's living quarters but recently they had descended into a newer, bigger part of the keep that sat a joined to the left of the court hall.

Rowan walked slowly to "Oceans Edge", as both his brothers had done before him. It had been a tradition in Dragon stone for as long as anyone alive could remember. The father was to present his son with their first ship on their 18th birthday, the day they become a man. Usually ships were built in longShaw or drift mark. But Rowans father had always much preferred the humble lands of house Seaburry to any other, the same as rowan.

Rowan had been waiting for this since he was 11 and his brother Brandon had just got his first ship, BULLS HEAD. It was true however that Rowan had spent half his life on a ship. There was something about the water that rowan loved. How free he felt when he was away from Dragon stone and how care free he could be. It was often that Rowan found himself dreaming of a simpler life, one where he could be a knight a fisher or Evan a pirate, a life were he could be anything he wanted, and not just a lord of a rocks son.

When Rowan was 5 his uncle had taken him aboard his ship, the first ship he'd ever been aboard. His uncle Arthur Devvon was known by many as "Port side" because of how long he spent on a ship. Port side had taught Rowan for years how to sail, whilst his father had only taught him politics. When Rowan was 14 he was allowed to see his first battle. He'd killed 2 men that day, 2 men with family's and people they love and who love them, 2 men he could not forget. He'd killed two men one for each of his swords, which he'd had engraved after with the words "death with meaning" in high valerian.

He spied Portside at the foot of the main gate. His short grey hair and long, shaggy beard blowing slightly in the distance.

"Lord Port side of the SILVER ANCHOR, what brings you to oceans keep?"

"Forgotten already lad?" He boomed.

"Never, just didn't think you'd be coming," Rowan said somewhat baffled, "didn't father having you chasing down pirates on the Dothraki sea?"

"Aye he did," Portside said, reviling a scar that trickled down his cheek to his neck "but I cut them short, couldn't miss my nephew get his first vessel now could I?"

Rowan laughed at his uncle's brief attempt and humor, and hugged him. Arthur Devvon had always been more of a father to him then his own. His father loved him he knew, it was just that he never showed it. When Brandon and Robert were growing up he had taught them to fight and sail but when it came to him and his sister, it was like his father had forgotten.

"Sorry were a bit late uncle, Rowan here attracted all kinds of un savoury company" Robert said, patting him on the back.

"Don't be mean Robert, there called locals and there kind enough to let us stay here" Arthur said in jape.

He guided them in castle a led them to the ship building house.

"Your sister, Elizabeth is in there with your father, she insisted on coming"

Rowan smiled cheerfully, his sister was always one to get her own way. His uncle stopped at the door with Robert and left him to go in.

**House Renwick**

**Mags**

Maegaris woke to a heavy banging in her head, like a stampede of horses charging over her. Her vision was blurred and the world around her was spinning. She sat up, trying to survey the fuzzy landscape around her and search her brain for any reflection of what had happed the previous night.

Snippets of convictions and events were all she found. For 5 minutes she sat, waiting for her sight to steady. "I have a brother" Mags thought, racking her memory back further, "and a mother and father too" she assumed. She couldn't really picture them, but she could rember from experience that it would soon come back to her.

As her hands came into focus she realised they were soaking wet. Not with water but with a mix of now cold blood and wine. Panic hit her quickly as she looked down at the stone floor. A pool of blood encircled her like a cage. She quickly checked her body for any recent injury. There was a scar on her face that stretched from her brow to her jaw. She ran her finger over the wound which made it sting. It had closed, and the blood around it was dry. She quickly patted down the rest of her body making sure it was the only one.

Which it wasn't. Her green, and black laced shirt had a large red blob socked into it. She pulled it up to reveal a deep stab would that was still leaking blood on her gut.

She stood up and sorted her priorities: _Find towels and bandages to stop the bleeding. Number 2- work out where I am and how I got here. 3 - Find my brother, Perry."_ She surveyed her surroundings. _It's a house_ she realised _or Villa. _It had stone walls and a stone floor. The walls were blood red with a few wooden windows. On the north side, 2 bits of red cloth covered an entrance to windy balcony. She walked onto it, somewhat mesmerized by the glowing light outside.

The light made her eyes ache so she covered them with her arm. Resting her hand on the marble barrier she looked down at the vast city below her. It was vibrant and free, with no lack of colours. In the distance she could see an incredibly large stone statue of Titan. "The Titan of bravos" she thought, memory flooding back to her. She stepped back into the room, her previously un painful wound suddenly starting to sting.

"Bandages?" She thought, scanning the room. There was a wooden dining table and chairs that had been flipped on their side and a marble counter with storage units around it. There was a mirror in the room, and a door, as well as 2 other rooms leading off from the one she was in. She staggered over to the storage units. One was a book shelf but the other was full of many compartments. She pulled out the first draw revealing various fruits and vegetables. In the second was some salted meat and the third and 4th there was a variety of other food.

On the second level of draws there was brown woven bags of golden dragons, silver stags and copper pennies. Mags looked through the last level of draws which revealed bottles of multi coloured liquids with white labels on them. The first, an light orange liquid had bravvosi letters written on it. Mags translated it to "Medicine for fever". The next read "Stopping of infection" and the one after that, a dark green liquid read "Curing dragon pox". There were at least a dozen more vials in there, but she closed in and searched the next draw.

The next contained bits of red cloth and bandages. With a sigh of relief, she immediately poured alcohol on her cut and rapped round the cloth on the slice on her stomach and wiped away the blood from her brow. "Thank the gods, finally" Mags thought pushing closed the draw. "2 down 1 to go" she said out loud, mentally ticking of her list.

She rembered now that this was where her and her brother were staying, last night, had been there last night in bravvos, and the last one before they were to return to densbluff in Dorne. Their trip had lasted 6 months and had taken them though all 7 kingdoms of wstorose, Dothraki country, the free city's and now bravvos Her father had made trips like this when he was younger as well. "If you don't know about the world, then how can you change it for the better?" She remberd he had once said when she was a child.

It was hard to keep any Renwick held down to one place, but with her and Perry it was near impossible.

During their trip Perry had loved best Pyke and dragon stone, and hadn't disliked the Dothraki either. But for her it was Bravvos. She had loved the vibrate life and colour of it all. She loved how free she had felt when no one knew of the house she was born into. But unfortunately there journey was at a close.

She walked over to the mirror, getting a good look at herself. Her usually long and wavy blond hair was matted with blood, and she had dark black bags under her eyes which brought there light blue colour. The bottom half of her navy green laced shirt, was almost completely red and her breaches we ripped in half a hundred places. The scar across her brow had gone pretty deep but seemed to be healing.

She slowly walked into the room on the left weary of what she may find inside.

The window was shut so the room was dim, and Mags could only make out shapes. There was a bed inside with what looked like a body on top and possibly a flipped over bookshelf. Maegaris open the wooden shutters on the window which realised a wave of sun light and lit the room.

A body, which she assumed was her brothers, Perregrin Renwick, lay naked, spread out on the bed. An old white cloth with patterns of flowers, covered his manhood. She shook him awake and his eyes fluttered slowly open.

"Sister, dearest," he smiled a strange lopsided smile "What brings you to my bed chambers?" He hiccupped.

"I was looking for you. I was worried. Tell me brother what happened to my face." She pointed to the gash on threw her brow.

"Not again Mags" he said with a strange lady like giggle "You really must stop drinking"

She studied him for a moment, as Perry hiccupped again. "Are you still drunk?" She asked.

"Noooo!," he said with a long slur and a giant hand movement. "Well maybe just a little bit"

She joined him in laugh and lay next to him on the bed.

"So how did I get these scars?"

"Mia" he said in one of those sullen, 1 word answers he sometimes gave.

"Mia?"

"Pretty Las, she was sitting on your lap most of the evening that was until" he giggled "Her husband found out. Wasn't best pleased, can't imagine why? Any way he beat her right then and there, said he was going to do the same to you. You said 'well that's good because I'm particle to a bit of gentle spanking' you stabbed him in the leg with a knife he then sliced you, and this massive brothel fight erupts. It was wild, and mean wild. I mean everyone was punching and slicing, it didn't matter who to, I think I got a few good swings on you as well, before you left."

"Before I left?"

"Yep, lots of help you were, just left me there up against an army of whores. I came back hear and you were laying in a pool of blood." He said with a hiccup.

"What, and you just decided not help me"

He giggled "Well I had matters if my own to deal with."

She herd footsteps coming from outside the doorway, and Mags jumped if the bed inductively, and un sheathed her Valerian steel knife. The intruder came into sight seconds later.

"Glad to see you awake I am" the naked man said in a think bravvosi accent.

"Put your knife away, sweet sister," he giggled, Allec stayed the night"


	4. Prologue: part 2

**_So, so sorry its been so long. I haven't had any internet for the last 2 weeks. luckily I did have time to write this long chapter and plan out where each characters going. Sorry for any spelling mistakes, and i hope you enjoy, and please review its great to here from you guys._**

_Prologue: part 2_

**House Bennett**

**Gregor**

Lord Gregor walked silently down the corridors with a hard look on his face, the kind he wore more often than any other. He was a strong man, tall and very muscular with a square face and short black hair on his head and chin. The small corridor made him look half giant and the dim lighting made him look beast like.

His face was naturally sullen and deadly stern, the kind of face that one requires through years of death and warfare. His eyes, icy cold masking all thoughts.

Gregor Bennett was the type of man who maids and servants deliberately avoided and only confronted when directly spoken to or summoned. "A king without love of his people is no king at all" the poets say, but Gregor had always believed that Respect or fear was more important. "Men fight for love but they do not die for it" he would often say.

There was little love for Lord Bennett of Casterly Rock in his own Kingdom, let a known the rest of westorse. He was a stubborn man with more scars then friends. But he knew how to rule and how to fight, and his people needed him because of it.

He took a left and walked down a swirling stone staircase. Upon the walls there were tapestries off house Bennett's family history. As a kid he had spent time down here. Admittedly, to his father's disappointment, when he should have been training.

He'd admired especially "the battle for casterly rock". Which had been the final battle of a long war in which house Bennett had triumphed over house Lannister.

He'd stopped once his father had found him down here. He hit him told him "It is peasants job to rember history", and "his to create."

He clutched hard at the letter in his hand, scrunching it up. At the bottom of the stairwell there was a corridor made of grey stone and oak flooring. Gregor followed it until the very end where two large wooden doors rested. They were crimson in colour and had two stone carvings of lions, standing guard on each. Beside the lions two guards dressed in silver armour with a red cloak, upon it was the sigil of House Bennett: A golden lion pierced with a black spear.

They moved to push open the doors at the first sight of their lord.

Enraged he gave then no acknowledgement. At continued straight into the large court room. It was one of the few rooms in the keep that his fore fathers had made little or no change too. To say it was large would be an understatement. It had two dozen pillars in arch way that led up to magnificent marble throne that had once sat house casterly, then Lannister and now the Bennett's. Little behind this, two smaller marble chairs sat for particularly important members of the court.

Upon the pillars, tapestries of every houses sigil to ever rule over the rock, hung. At the back of the room nearest the doors the pillars were blank, this was for house Casterly whose sigil had long since been lost. Next, moving closer to the marble throne the golden lion on a crimson field of house Lannister hung. After that was the sigil of house Bennett, and on the pillar to its opposite was the sigil of the lady that lord had married. In this case the sigil of house Bennett was parallel to the deer of house Baratheon.

This continued for 3 more pillars, until it came to a close with lord Gregors. His Sigil was in line with that of his late wife Rhea Leford, who had died after giving birth to his youngest child, Garrett.

Today a small Rectangular table had been placed in the middle of the room in honour of council meeting. There were 4 wooden seats around it and one at the head of the table. The first around the outside was occupied by an old man with curly grey hair and grey whiskers named meastor Lucan, master of coin. His body, greatly wrinkled and his eyes white and hollow.

The seat next to him was occupied by Sir Janos Swyft the 3rd son of Lord Swyft, a banner man of lord Gregor. He sat straighter than the rest, a hint of arrogance in his stance. He was a tall and strong man, with short blond hair and brown eyes, he seemed to be the only one awake at the table. He wore leather armor and carried a long plain sword around his waist. Janos held the Garrison and casterly rock.

Opposite Janos sat Mateo Sonoris, Lord of lies, Gregors eyes and ears. He was a short man, with short hair and a plain face. He slouched constantly and almost waddled around. He was nether large or skilled in any type of warfare. But like all company gregor kept, he had his uses.

The last at the table was a fat man with a shaved head and a gold chain around his neck. He wore rich read and green robes and wore 3 gemmed rings. He was known better for drinking and horeing then anything else. He owned large businesses around casterly rock, and contributed to over 40℅of its wealth. Much to Gregors anger, Selter Dantis, had brought his way on to the council. Without his money, Gregoer and house Bennett would have to live as little more than commoners, and if there was one thing Gregor feared it was his family's name being squandered. So he'd let Selter on to the council and he'd let him think he had the power. But Gregory had a plan.

He punched his fist hard on the table making thoughts seated, jump. He slapped the letter onto the table making sure there attention was on him. "What! Is! This?" Gregor asked, his voice spiking with anger.

"I do believe they call it a letter, my lord" Selter Dantis said his voice high pitched and sarcastic. "Insolence," Gregory thought "he had the nerve to speak like that" he clenched a fist forcing himself not strike.

Around Selter, it seemed all his council members forget their place. Mestor Lucan smiled and Janos had the nerve to laugh at Selters jape.

"I assume that is the one from our king" Mestor lucan croked out.

"Bad tidings is it?" Janos asked, puzzled.

"Are there any other" Selter chipped in.

Gregors angers flared _gods, there all as slow as each other._ He took a sigh "A tourney he asks. 5 feasts. Valerian steel blades for each of the winners and shelter for half the sodding kingdom," he slammed a second fist onto the table, "How, Lucan, does his grace expect me to pay for all of this? He knows just as well as I that the Lannister's used up near the last of are gold reserves"

The old meastor started to answer but was cut off by Mateo "His grace is merely in jape. It's petty really. He knows full well you cannot pay, but still he insists" he said, in his voice as sweet as honey,

"And if are gracious king wishes to play games my lord, how about we let him?"

"Go on" Gregor said intrigued.

"The walls in red keep have ears, my lord. They hear that there are prizes for the tourney that are not made of steel. A place in the kingsgaurd for the melee, A lady and lordship for the joust and much gold and a knighting for the archery, all paid for by the king."

Gregor gave a sly smile, the only smile he ever gave. "A spy, a lord, and funding. See that the neccecry arrangements are made."

"It will be done, my lord" Mateo went back to hunching.

"Perhaps you would like to pick your champions now, my lord," Janis said most eagerly, "if I may, I would like to put my name forward?"

Gregor acknowledged him with a nod. Janis had been loyal to him in the past, as right he should be. Did he mean lordship or kingsgaurd?

"I will think on it, and tell you on the morrow. That is all for today." He said walking back towards the door.

Lucan panicked after him "but sire there is much still to do"

"I leave you in charge, Lucan. Save my kingdom for me" he said sarcastically and then whispered under his breath "I need to stab something"

X X X

He'd been informed earlier of deserters from the wall in his lands. "Deserters are the weakest of the week" he knew. He showed no mercy to them, and often took enjoyment. Gregor loved to fight a lot more then he liked to rule. He loved more war then peace, and he desired strength and feared weakness.

"Sandal my horse and find my sons" he told the stable boy. The boy had done so in a matter of minutes. Gregory had two sons. His eldest, Karl, was big a muscular like himself and had the same black hair. He'd taught Karl all that he knew. There was no weakness in Karl, Gregor had seen to that.

His younger was called Garret. He was kind and gentle. Like his mother. Yet he wasn't afraid to act when needed, and often questioned his father's judgement. Garret greeted the stable boy like and old friends and climbed on to his saddled horse.

It wasn't that Gregor was opposed to his son having peers, it was just that they are of so little class, so...so...weak. He told Garret too: "Weak friends make you weak, son. You don't want to Dis houner your house do you son? You must be strong! You don't want end up like Selwyn do you?" None of it had worked.

X X X

"You don't think it could be him do you? Selwyn, I mean." Garret had asked on their ride. His voice was a high pitch and plentiful in fear.

"No," Karl awsered almost softly. He'd always had more symthy with Garret the Gregor. He supposed he inherited it from his mother. "Selwyn is many things but he's not a deserter."

"I do not like that he's out there alone, without his family, without us."

"They are all brothers on the wall, Garret. One may say he has more family there"

For a moment it seemed as if this had put him in lighter spirits but then he asked Gregor.

"Would you kill him father? Chop his head of like the rest, if he deserted? Would you kill are brother?"

Gregor clenched a fist on his reigns and hesitated. It was no easy thing to send ones son to the wall. Evan if he hadn't been a true son, Evan if he was week. He has suspected that Selwyn was his wife's basted for a while. But he knew truly that his wife would never fore sake their vows. Which meant only that Selwyen was some cruel jape sent on him by the gods.

He gave a sullen answer, with a hint of remorse which gave away the fact that it was the truth.

"I would yes"

**House vos**

**Cristbol**

Cristobel sat strong on his throne, resting his head on his hand. He was an elegant young man, though short and thin. He was made to look Evan smaller by that he rested on. He had an elegant, sleek face with high cheekbones, and arched brows. His lips shaped like cupids bow and his eyes blue like a tear drop. Dark bags hung under his eyes and the slightest wrinkle rested on his four head.

"It was hard work running a kingdom" Cristobel had realised, "especially if it was turmoil". He was young lord at 17, not the youngest ever, but perhaps the least prepared. As the third son he had never paid much attention in court and preferred more to fight and spend time, with who are now his subjects.

He knew people though at least, and that he had learned was a very good advantage. He knew how they thought and what they wanted. He knew exactly what to do or say that would guarantee there friendship or hatred. He knew "that which cannot be taught," as the meastor had put it, and that was one thing his father and brothers did not know.

He sat now listing to some fat old farmer bellowing for justice on a man who had apparently stolen one of his pigs. He looked down at the man he had accused. He was a boy really. With ashen hair a brown eyes. His skin was ghostly pale and his body was thin to the point at which you could see every one of his bones. He wore rags and seemed to limp. It made Cristobel sick.

Others came forward all accusing the young boy of some kind of theft or another. Which made him feel sicker. The way they looked at him you would have thought he caused the plague himself. _If he stolen all you say the boy would be a lord by now_ Cristobel thought. They had properly accused this boy because they'd seen him scavenging around there lands. They all knew he was and easy bet, get him punished at get a nice little gold reward of Cristobel. But everyone in this court room knew that if this boy had stolen it was only to survive.

There wasn't any one in Cristobel's whole kingdom who hadn't lost something- or everything to the plague. It turned there once lands prosperous land into waste. Cristobel had lost both his mother and his father as well as his two older brothers. They'd gone slow and painful and had hollowed for many nights as they coughed there in sides up. Some nights he could still hear there screams rattling his walls, and see there ghostly bodies walking the corridors. Though he knew it was not real.

After that he'd sent his sisters away to drone, because the pain and fear had been too much. But finally after 6 moon cycles they were to come home. He tried hard to concentrate on the task ahead. The man who had done the accusing continued to speak with no sign of stopping.

"Enough," Cristobel said in his calm voice, moving his hand downwards to signal silence. "We all understand well enough that you belief this boy to be a thief. But these are dark times in which we must rebuild so much of what we lost. It's a new era of life, do you really wish to start it by having me take 2 fingers of a poor orphaned boy? Because of a pig?"

His words brought a chill that captured the room in a net of silence. The farmer scrunched up his face as if he may both scream and cry at the same time. "He is not just a thief," he coughed out " But a murderer too"

Whatever feeling Cristobel was feeling. It was suddenly ripped out of him by that statement. The punishment for theft was to lose 2 fingers, but for murder - the boy faced death. He could feel him self getting paler as the man brought over a body wrapped in cloth.

"My son, lord" the man almost cried. He removed the cloth to reveal a tall body of a man about 10 and 7 years of old, fat like his father with short brown hair. It his chest were four small piercings from a pitch folk and a large bite mark on his thigh.

Cristobel turned to face the boy who had a mix of fear and sadness in his eyes.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Cristobel asked. The boy looked down at the floor in shame. "I...I...he attacked me. I was just getting food for my sister...when he tried to stab me and... told me to get of his land," he rolled up the arm of his shirt to revel a stab wound similar to that of the man he murdered. "My dog bit him, he was only trying to help... and then I was so frightened... I stabbed him" the boy made a soft whelping sound but know tears occupied his cry.

Cristobel took note of this _probably too weak to cry._ He thought, somewhat saddened by the whole situation.

"Is it true?" he asked "Did your son really attack first?"

The fat farmer looked hurt by the accusation. "Murder is still murder!"

That much was true. "I will not ask again, did your son attack first?"

"What does it matter, my lord, HE KILLED MY SON?"

Cristobel was weirdly enraged, he had to know "IT MATTERS TO ME!"

His whole court froze in shock. The farmer took a step back and stuttered in answer "He may have... I think... yes... m'lord... perhaps... but he was on are land, we have the right." Cristobel new that what the man said was true, but he did not like it. There was only one way to answer this and appease the farmer, Cristobel knew.

"The boy is to be sent to the wall on the morrow" Cristobel loudly told his court, then whispered to Alfred of his lords guard "see that this boy gets food and water, and find his sister as well. I will have an aduice with him soon enough" Alfred had been captain of his father's guard aswell, and Cristbol knew him since he could rember, and trusted him with his life. He nodded and took the boy into custedy.

Xxxxxxxx

It had been several hours before Alfred had summoned him to the cells. It was a dark and grimy place that Cristobel had only visited twice, both times with his father and brothers. The boys sister was of only 9 years of age, and they ed learned he was of ten and one.

The jailer opens the door the boy hunched in a dark corner with and empty plate and goblet to the side of him.

"What is your name?" He asked in his gentlest voice.

"Aron m' lord" he said with little certainty.

"And your sisters?"

He paused for a moment, perhaps he was unsure to share such sensitive information with the man who just sentenced him or perhaps because he'd forgotten. "Leia" he croaked.

"Well Aron, I would like to let you know that Leia is fine, she's going to stay here for a while and work as my sisters hand madden. Where make sure she's we'll fed and she will school with my sister, is that alright with you?"

He nodded happily, not quite believing it was true.

Cristobel took his hand in his own "and Aron, my friend, if you will allow, I would like you to be my squire?"


	5. Prologue: part 3

**Hey guys i'm back. So this is the last of the intro, next chapter the game will truly begin. Please review, as always they are useful and helpful. And please, please take the poll on my profile, it should give me a good idea of what is going on, don't worry if your characters last there not going to die first. Hope you like...**

**Prologue****: part 3**

**House Blackreyne**

**Tauron**

Large waves crashed at the rocks below Arnor, and small caves echoed the sound so that it could be herd across the castle.

Tauron stood looking out at his kingdom and the early morning red sky from his chamber's window at keep Arnor. Arnor was a large castle on the westernmost shore of Great Wyk. It was constructed 240 years ago by Caedus Blackreyne after he had helped Stannis Baratheon claim the throne. The Blackreyne's have been strong noble rulers ever since, who believe in justice and sincerity. They were harsh however, when it came to punishment. "An eye for an eye" they had showed many times.

Caedus himself had culled the previous inhabitants of the iron islands. The rapists and barbarians who called themselves the iron born. He had, in secret, put the men to the sword and sold the women and children to Essos as slaves, or so the legend goes. Though it was mere roomer or folly to them on the main land. Instead he had replaced the "Iron born" with the wildlings from beyond the wall, that much is known fact. The wild lings had jumped at the opportunity. After all, it is really no crime at all to be born on the wrong side of the wall.

Arnor was by far the strongest castle in the iron isles. It is located in Havensport on a jut of rock that thrusts out into the sea. Three of its sides are surrounded by cliffs while an 800 foot wide ravine, with only a single small bridge, protects the gate side.

The castle its self was designed relatively simple. Containing only a drum shaped keep surrounded by a square, 200ft tall, sloped curtain wall.

Nine towers top the curtain wall, 4 round towers on the corners, three square towers cliff sides, and 2 D shaped towers guard the gateway. Scores of catapults and ballista line the walls and towers. The gateway utilizes a counterweight drawbridge, iron doors, and 2 portcullises. To breech the keep an invader would have to go all the way around to the west side and enter The Ramp from the south side. In 240 years it had not once been breached.

Tauron turned away from his window and back to his chambers. They were large, with a king sized bed and a large fire opposite. Left to that was long dining table and a large window facing down at the barracks were Lord Tauron stood now with nothing on but a black gown with the Sigel of a black horse with dragon wings, over the left breast. He walked through the doorway to right of his bed which led to a small study.

The Study consisted of a rectangular table, a window that faced the Iron Sea and a dusty bookcase. Lying on the table were two half written letters and two sealed letters addressed to "Lord Tauron Blackryne". He sat down on an old wooden chair next to the table and used a small blunt dirk, which rested upon its surface, to open the first of the letters.

It was a plea from the lord commander of the nights watch for more men. Though many wildlings live on the iron islands there were still many and more beyond the wall. Sadly, for the watch, Tauron's dungeons were usually empty as crime levels were at minimum. This was manly dew to the Blackryens harsh punishments. "The harsher the punishment, the less likely people are to commit the crime" Tauron's father had said to him.

He moved the letter to one side, knowing his own people would not dare take arms against there old kin, and took hold of the second. On one of its sides neat hand writing scribed his name, and on the other red wax marked the king's Sigel. He sliced open the envelope and read its context. Its words were invitation to a feast and tourney at Casterly rock, in the king's honour. The whole thing seemed strange to him. He reread it to make sure. It was to be at the end of the moon cycle. In three days.

If this was the Bennets doing, he of all people would not of received and invite, and had this been the kings work it would surly have been at kings landing. He sat thinking for a while before footsteps brought him back to the present.

"Tauron, my love" spoke the warm, gentle voice of his wife Rhaeyns. "What is it you are doing up so early? It is barely dawn."

"It appears," he said, signalling towards the window "the gods whish me to be awake."

Rhaeyn was a truly beautiful women. Buxom with soft brown hair and blue eyes. She was kind and companionate by nature but manipulative underneath. She was the love Taurons life.

Rhaeyn Blackryenne favoured her husband with a smile and said seductively "Well I wish you to come back to bed... mayhaps there's a way we can do both."

He smiled and planted her a kiss on her neck. "The gods know I wish I could" he said. "However, we have been summoned to Casterly Rock"

She recoiled from him and gave him a strange look.

"But... the Bennets... Gregor?" When she spoke her voice was different, strange and horse, frightened even.

Tauron comforted her in a hug. "I know my love, but we must, the king has commanded it," he ran his hands through her hair, "do not fear the Bennets... remember, justice comes for all"

**XXX**

Tauron met his council in the Waroom at mid-day. It was a grand place, rich in history and honour. Tapestries and weapons hung on the walls and a great fire lit the room. At its heart though, a magnificent map of westose and its surrounding islands spread out across a large table. Models of each houses Sigel gave representation of power.

Stood around the map were 5 of his loyal Bannermen, his brother Talos and his wife. There were only eight lords in his kingdom, including himself. All were equal and none were greater than the another.

Only 5 of them stood before him today. Ornodir thenn, Gunarr Redbeard, Casen Bonehelm, Kegan Hornfoot and Leyanna Caverns. His swon lords of House Riverice and House Nightrun were off dealing with piarets from Essos who called themselves the IronBorn, annd believed they were crusading for their home land.

Leyanna spoke first, as she always did, reporting to him there progress with these ironborn. She was a short women with strong arms and big breasts. Her skin was a light brown like her hair and her eyes were deep hazel. Today, like most she wore man's armour, not an uncommon sight in the iron isles, though frowned on in most parts of the mainland. Around her waist hung a long sword named "Reaper".

"Are ships have made formidable progress in pushing back these pirates with their false claims." Her voice was neither high nor low, and never seemed to change pitch no matter how she felt "Are new Xebecs have taken many and more of their own ships"

As she said this Gunarr, A strong man with little wit beyond the art of war, took a small wooden modol of ship of the map and crushed it in his hand.

Tauron smiled at him before turning his attention back to Layanna.

"Good, and how near our we too repelling them completely?"

"Near enough, here" she pointed to the spot where Gunarr had taken the ship. "But my own folk on Orkmontt are reporting raiders"

He gave her a nod and turned to Casen Bonehelm "Could you spear a few ships?"

Casen grinned like a child, "As long as I can go with' em, I've been itching for a fight since summer"

"Then that is settled. Brother how comes along ship production?"

"Faster still. The builders work tirelessly. We now have 320 Xebecs and 650 long ships fully made, manned and fitted with weapons."

"Good." Tauron nodded. He studied the map as he had ever since he was a child and his father had first taken him and Talon here. He focused his gaze on the iron islands. Each model of a black horse looked like that from a chess board. On this map each of those models on land they represented 10,000 men and on water they represented 100 ships.

Around the island 10 pieces dominated the iron sea and 6 on its land. There were over 60, 000 men and women who fort for the iron islands. It was not surprising really. Most were taught how to fight from the age of 8, to fight, sail and to not fear pain, and it doesn't stop don't stop for a decade.

Many become archers, mostly women, and as result it has become there most useful asset. Some would say there are infantry is somewhat lacking however, Tauron thought. It was known far and wide that they possessed no such Calvary, which limited them to hit and runs on land.

"At sea though, we are something to be feared" Tauron said softly under his breath, forgetting he was not alone. But it could not be said it wasn't true. They had, perhaps the greatest fleet in Westrose, though it could be argued that House Devvon matched them.

"If we were to attack the Bennets tomorrow we would take out there fleet in a matter of hours," he flicked a model lion on to its side. Months before he had sent spies into houses nearest to him, checking fleet and army size. "Though the moment we get to land we would be crushed, why is this?" He posed the question to the entire room.

"We lack the military power, they have on land, at their home as well they would have more men than ever." His wife Rhaeyn answered, somewhat puzzled by the question, as if he had asked her why men could not bare child.

"True, and how would we fix that problem?"

Rhaeyn looked down at map, thinking and Ornodir spoke instead.

"We draw them to the sea, or to us here? Giving us an advantage."

"Good idea, but how would we do that?"

"A hostage"

"How would we get one so important that it makes Gregor come to us?"

Ornodir didn't answer. But Talon look up enlightened by a sudden thought.

"We give him a reason to not be there"

Tauron smiled "Exactly brother, and my love, how do we do that?" This time he only asked his wife.

She looked up, "the feast at Casterly rock"

"Yes," he spoke to the room "You better know then, we have received invitation from Lord Bennett and the king. There is to be a tourney and many a feast at Casterly Rock in three days."

Gunarr laughed and the rest gave weary smiles.

"Think it's about time we saw old Gregor again." He said.

Layanna asked "How are champions to be picked?"

"Any and all who want to participate can, including your son Layanna, I hear he is rather good with a bow?"

She smiled "Aye he is"

"If that is settled, we leave at dawn in three days"

**House Ashton**

**Reagan**

"Left, Right, parry... left, right parry... again."

_Who knew fighting a tree could be such hard work"_Reagan Ashton thought. She was a small girl with a slim figure and bright ginger hair. Her eyes silver like ice and her legs long and slender. Her face and body were beyond any doubt beautiful, though few scars littered them, from times when she hadn't been fighting a tree.

She looked up at the man yelling at her. He was tall and had a large athletic build. He was grey of hair though once he had been brown. He wore gold plate and scale armour with white detailing and white armour.

"He must have looked attractive once," she supposed "Before countless battles ripped away his skin" He had a deep cut on his cheek and another on his right arm that had healed over years ago. There was deep piercing on his chest as well she knew for he had got it taking an arrow for her father. He looked old more than anything, not weak, but old.

"Alright that's enough, we don't want to chop the bloody thing down." Ser Harrison Poole said.

Regan gave him a nod, she was relived more than anything. Though this was better than sowing, or moping around camp, it wasn't anything like fighting a real opponent. She gave him the sword and put her hand out, expecting it to be filled with a dagger.

"Ow no, not today, you know as well as I that your father has requested your presence."

"Must I?" she said regretfully as she moved to her horse, "Even you cannot deny that I've been getting good, soon I may even match you ser"

He laughed and moved to saddle his own horse.

"Every little girl in the seven kingdoms dreams of being a princess, but you my little princess, dream of being a worrier"

She trusted Ser Harrison Poole perhaps more than any one she knew, but when it came down to it, he was just a man. She was somewhat opposed by his comment, the way he japed as if she was wrong. She looked away from him and asked somewhat angrily.

"What is wrong with worrier women? I hear they are a common sight in the iron isles"

He sensed her anger, as he always did "You mistake me m'lady I was merely commenting. You mustn't read too much into my folly" there a was truthfulness in his look that Regan could not deny so she excepted his apology.

They had to ride slow to avoid suspicion. If any of her fathers men found her secret would not stay away from her father for long. A top her horse she wore brown breaches and a loose corset. There were furs over her shoulders and chest and above it all she wore a green hunting cloak with a hood that concealed her head. It was raining, luckily which didn't make her disguise too out of place, but just to make sure Ser Harrison had given her a bow, so she passed as an archer.

She had also made sure not to take her own horse. Instead she had taken an old thing with black fur and a brown mane. Next to Set Harrison's war horse it must have looked quit pathetic.

It was a 15 minute ride from the camp to where they had trained, and the journey went quickly.

Regan had herd Ser Harrison Poole say earlier that there were over 150 tents all together on the small field. They were compact and looked almost identical. All but a few were white and black, the colours of House Ashton and most were under there banner. A black crow with an arrow through it on a field of white. The lords tents were bigger than the knights, though there were more of them.

They rode through the White Sea making little acknowledgment of its in habitants. At its hart were the tents of her, her brother and her mother and father, the king and queen. When she arrived there was little to do and little time to do it in, before she was to meet the king.

**XXX**

Regan wore a dress, as she was expected to, when she walked into the largest tent on the field. Ser Harrison Ploole still accompanied her, following her at a respectful distance. The Tent its self was set out sort of like a square star. With four rectangular points all of equal distance and a large square centre.

Two guards dressed in white outside the entrance carried long wooden spears and wore black helms to cover their face. They let her and Ser Harrsion pass without and quarrel but moved sideways to block the entrance once they were through. "Obviously something my Father doesn't wish everyone to her then" she thought.

"My Good Ser, why is it that I have all the power in the seven kingdoms yet I cannot stop the bloody rain?" She herd her father shout from further in. A voice, who Regan assumed was the lord commander of her father's kings guard answered with a deep chuckle.

"The gods certainly do not wish us to get there easily do they?"

"No they do not. I do longer care for these 'Gods'. What have they over done for me?" He japed loudly. "A good harvest? No. A warm winter? Ow No. A feast so easy to get to that I didn't want stab myself with dull blade?" He laughed at his own joke.

"A wonderful daughter? A strong son? A beautiful wife?" Regan pitched in from behind him.

He turned, barely surprised by her quiet entrance.

"Well I certainly have two of those things, Perhaps if my beautiful wife, Braelynn bares me another child it would be that wonderful daughter so desperately long for."

Ser Harrison and the lord commander laughed and father asked if Regan's stroll had been Troublesome. He shook his head and slipped her a knowing glance.

"No she was quiet alright."

"Well that's a surprise. My good Ser do you care for ale before are journey? It seems to be the only thing we have in a abundance." Ser Harrison nodded and went to fetch himself a goblet. "And what about you Regan, do you care for some wine like a proper lady?"

"I am a proper lady!" She said slightly angry.

"Ow certainly, and I'm a proper peasant, didn't you know?"

She gave her father a stare but laughed all the same

They sat on wooden chairs in the centre of the room. To there right a small fire burned. Nothing fancy but it kept away the chills.

"Regan," her father said in his calm voice, suddenly very serious. "I want you to know I do truly love you, no matter how much I jape."

She held both his hands and looked him in the eyes. "What's brought all this on, she asked somewhat confused.

"Of course father."

"I'm not going be here forever" there was a deep underlying sadness in his voice and eyes. "And when I go you will need someone to look after you."

It clicked in her mind in a matter of seconds. He was talking about marriage. For some unknown reason it a came as a deep shock, and she felt as if all the air had been forced out of her lungs. She knew since birth that she was to be married and bare many children for her ass of a husband but she didn't expect it so soon, not at 6 and 10, not so young.

Her father carried on.

"You and Caelum are to be married at the feast, if we ever arrive."

This time it felt as if she'd been stabbed by a dirk rapidly. He wasn't even giving her time to let it sink in.

If Regan new her brother half as well a she did she knew he would not be too happy it either. He was named after her father's brother, and both Caelums shared a deep anger but a kind heart.

"Who to? Why so fast?" She managed to croak out.

"Your brother, is to be married to Maegaris Renwick Princess of Dorne, I hear she's quiet the beauty, and isn't lacking in drones fiery spirit. And you to a young boy of twenty, son to the Lord of the north, lord Mannderly."

She could speak for it felt as if something was stuck in the back of her throat, but she managed to crack out.

"How... How... did Caelum take it?"

"Badly at first, but he saw the sense in it, like I know you will."

That's all she got was it, he was handsome, that's all she was to know about her husband. It was only after that it occurred to her just how strange it was. 2 houses were soon to be joined by her Ass of a father, and both great. One lord of the north, and one lords of the south. Why them? She swallowed hard, coming to terms with it, after all, she thought "we all have jobs to do, we cannot cry about it."


End file.
